Hot Date in The ugly truth about making babies

Firstly, I can’t even. One of my patients looked at me today and said to me today ‘ooh are congratulations in order?’ to which I responded, ‘no, no, just the usual Christmas overindulgence’, thinking how mortified she’d be and giving her a get out. But no, she then responds with ‘my god you’ve put LOADS of weight on since I last saw you’.

Now, would you. To someone who is your care provider. We do have a close relationship with our patients, and there are some of them who I see a lot of who I do chat loosely to about my personal life, but not this particular lady, and I wouldn’t really expect anyone other than my close friends and family to comment on my weight. Plus the whole baby thing, well it’s just a touchy subject right now.

Joey text me before saying he has a date with a cup tomorrow. As if either of us could forget right. I do feel sorry for him. Because this is a test his GP has ordered, almost a formality to go through to start the referral process, it’s to be done at our local hospital rather than the women’s hospital where the rest of our treatment would take place. Therefore there are absolutely no provisions for him to provide the sample, no sterile little room with excruciating porn, he just has to go to the toilets on the ground floor and wank into a cup, all the while members of the public are in and out of the cubicle next door.

I can’t actually talk about it without laughing my head off, I know it’s cruel but the more embarrassing he finds it the funnier I find it for some reason. I don’t know why it amuses me so much, it’s not really funny at all, and in the grand scheme of things his wanking into a cup a few times is small fry compared to the things I’m going to have to go through. We have a bit of a dark sense of humour I think, between my job and his job, you have to be able to lighten the mood. My family are also like that, bordering on the inappropriate at times, we laughed a lot during Mum’s cancer.

I just have to keep reminding myself of why we’re doing all this, the end goal, and that is that it enables us to start a family. We’d planned a couple of nights away in February, then I said maybe we shouldn’t go because the dog needed to go into the vets to be neutered. My Dad said on Sunday that I should let Joey take me away, and he has a surprise planned that he’s told my Dad about. Immediately I thought - proposal. Anyone who knows Joey knows he’s not the surprise planning type, I’m very much the planner/organised one in our relationship. And we’re not really one of those overly lovey dovey couples either, if you saw us together in the street sometimes you might question if we even like each other, we’re just not like that. So for him to have actually planned something, I’m intrigued.

When I think about it maybe being a proposal I feel a bit sick but in an excited kind of way. I never would have expected him to propose in Feb, and to be fair, knowing him, it’s more likely to be an I’ve sold the house from under us kind of surprise than anything romantic! The ball has always been in his court with regards to the marriage timeframe in our relationship, given that he’s been married before, and it’s not something I’ve ever desperately yearned after. I like the idea of having the same name as my kids, but we don’t have any yet, and it’s not really an issue until any that we may have are old enough to know their own surname. I’ve never seen myself as a big white wedding type - although I do realise that there are many types of wedding I could opt for.

My Grandma would be beyond thrilled, she’s spent the last 10 years of my life trying to encourage me into an engagement. I’m desperately curious to see what this surprise might be. I would be genuinely shocked if it was a proposal as I don’t feel like it’s something he even thinks about, but who knows.

Lots to ponder. I’m sleeping like crap, my mind is going a mile a minute all the time.

xx